


Nightmares

by RiverOfFandoms



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Memories, Nightmares, Panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 19:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14983754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverOfFandoms/pseuds/RiverOfFandoms
Summary: Reader is up late at night finishing some work when she hears Sam relive some of the unfortunate parts of his life through his dreams.





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Panic response to nightmares depicted.

_It was raining when you heard the first whimper_. 

You’re up well past midnight, the last time you checked the clock it read 2:30am. Your hot cup of tea now freezing cold. And this stupid article still not completely edited.   
You promised Elena that you would finish editing her new web article by Friday morning. When she suggested the idea, it was a week ago, and the knowledge of having so much time until Friday morning was what helped your confidence in its completion. But now, as you sit at your desk, your back aching and your tea cold, not finished with her article with only several hours before the sun rises on the Friday that it’s supposed to be finished by… you feel defeated. The rain outside only illuminating your mood. 

You push off your desk chair, hearing it creak as it swings in circles from your momentum, you make your way over into the open kitchen; straight for the espresso machine. You pull out a new mug and switch the espresso machine on, realizing that you must be totally sucking with your editing skills because of the lack of caffeine in your system. Time to switch yourself on again. 

The machine hums gently, thankfully you were able to upgrade to a much better version. Your old machine, the one that Sam absolutely despised to the point of not even using it anymore, had roared loudly each morning which was painful to wake up to. Thankfully, it is long gone now. It clicks off and you fill the rest of your mug with warmed, frothed milk before switching the machine off again. The smell of coffee alone reawakens you. 

You tentatively sip it as you begin editing the article again. Time goes by, and the more that passes, the more you wish you were in bed, curled up beside Sam. Maybe that’s what drives you forward, the moment you can rest your head on your pillow, comforted by the breathing of your wonderful man beside you. 

You cut into your break early and flip through old photos saved in your computer. You smile at the faces that flash by, the holiday you took with Sam, Nate and Elena a year ago to Hawaii. You stare at one in particular. Both Sam and Nate flowered in their new colourful, loud Hawaiian shirts, standing in the middle, and you and Elena on either end. You flick through a few of them, still in the same position, on top of the volcano you all hiked up on. In one of the photos, Sam smiles at you instead of the camera, and the pit of your belly fills with warmth and love. You love looking at photos of the two of you together, and its even better when they’re genuine and candid. 

You see another photo, this time you’re back upstate, two years ago instead of one. Sam looks at you through the lens with a half-pissed, half-amused face. There’s some sort of spillage in the background, in the same kitchen you made your coffee in just now. You remember, as you see the spillage had made its way on Sam’s shirt and pants too. You had fallen asleep at the table early in the morning, you woke up to get a head start on writing, but instead of working you only fell back to sleep again. He put his cereal down to wake you once he noticed, and you woke up with a jolt, knocking his cereal bowl off the table. It clattered to the floor, but not without making its mark on Sam. 

You giggle at the memory, shaking your head, after you managed to snap a photo of him with spilt milk all over him, he practically pounced on you and fought to delete it. You smirk, you definitely won that wrestling match. 

You decide that’s enough of a break for now, and flick back to the Word document with Elena’s work on it. You finish off your coffee and pound out the last few editing sequences, just as the rain grows heavier and heavier. You start to wonder if thunder and lightning will soon accompany the rain. 

You save and switch the computer off, you watch, as your tired brain demands of you, as the screen goes black and the lights turn off. You stretch after you stash your dirty mugs into the kitchen sink, and begin to wander back towards your bedroom. 

You push the door ajar slightly, and wait for your eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, so you don’t trip over yourself on your way to the bed. But a small, defeated noise escapes Sam’s lips before you can conclude that he’s completely asleep. You frown, knowing that he possibly couldn’t be awake now. Another noise. You creep closer to the bed, and see the shining sweat on his forehead and face. “Don’t.” 

You don’t know who, or what, he says that to. You watch as his eyes dart incredibly fast underneath his eyelids, and you realise he’s having a nightmare. Another nightmare. 

“Please, don’t. Don’t leave me.” 

You lift yourself up from the bed and head into the bathroom, switching on the shower instinctively. Cold water. You sigh, hating yourself for staying up late tonight. You hear the shouting immediately, and your blood runs cold. You run towards the bedroom as Sam’s shouts grow louder. You switch the light on, panting from the sudden rush of adrenaline, as he thrashes underneath the covers.

You jump onto the bed and pull the mound of moving blankets back, his eyes aren’t quite open yet, he’s stuck between sleep and wakefulness. You try to coax him out of it with your voice, but the screaming only gets louder and more intense. You pull him into you, rocking with him as he keeps moving even under your touch. 

“Y/N…” He croaks, his voice strained from the panicked yelling. 

“Let’s get you to the shower,” you say quietly, as you help him up out of the bed and into the bathroom. You help him untangle himself from his sweats before ditching them into the wash, too soaked with his sweat to be comfortable in again. He stands underneath the cold water, as it chills him it also calms him. But if you had finished your work earlier and gone to bed with him, he would not have to be here in the shower now. When he sleeps alone, the nightmares always come. 

“I’m sorry, Sam.”

He shakes his head, his hair now darker in colour and his eyes to match. “Not your fault.”

“You’re calmer when I’m asleep next to you—

“It isn’t your fault.”

Minutes go by filled with silence before he twists the shower knobs off, stopping the spray of water.

He wraps a towel around him, and you towel-dry his hair for him like always. “Damned Panama.” His voice is still low and gruff, tired.

“Damn it to hell.” You respond.  
He grunts amusedly at your repetition, and choice of words. This is what you do best. Cheer him up. 

You feel his arms wrap around your waist as he turns to face you, his hair not completely dry but good enough. You drop the towel on the edge of the bathtub, and see his eyes lighten again, whatever hellish experience that locked onto him tonight is seeping away by the second. 

“I love you.” He whispers, his voice still too worn, and he kisses you right on the mouth completely loving. 

You kiss him back, your arms around his neck, your fingers brushing against his dampened curls by the base of the back of his neck. “I love you, too.” 

He hugs you closer to him, his bare chest against your cheek. “I’m sorry, Y/N…”

“Don’t apologise.”

“Almost every night—

“Don’t.” You look up at him, “I mean it. I love you, all of you.”  
You feel his lips on yours again, gentle, caring, wanting, needing… you follow him into the bedroom as he pulls you back in, his mouth still against yours. You almost stumble, even with the light on, and soon your back touches the bed and his hands touch your face. They travel your body, eyes hungry, but hands careful and gentle. When you hoped for head to be hitting the pillow tonight, you didn’t realise Sam would be undressing you too.


End file.
